


The genius and his archer

by asamandra



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 2639$, Caw Caw Motherfucker, Darcy's revenge, Happy birthday Clint, Hawk's nest, Like, M/M, PBJ 2.0, asshole parking, cara mia, cat-sitter, ear-hats, how to kill a spider, karaoke night, name plate, papercut, pink accident, stake a claim, strange things happen in a relationship, the cocktail factory, the peaches's ass, too hot for coffee, yellow bird - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 15,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asamandra/pseuds/asamandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes <i>strange</i> things happen in their relationship and around them...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How to kill a spider

“Do you have a newspaper?” Clint suddenly asked and turned to Tony.

“You can use my StarkPad,” the genius mumbled into his cushion.

“No, I don't...” Clint started again and licked his lips.

“Don't be ridiculous. I don't mind if you use it.” Tony had turned his head now and looked at the younger man in the bed beside him.

“But Tony, it's...”

“We're living in an age of technology. Newspapers are so old fashioned. And consider all the trees which have to die to print a paper.” Tony grabbed the Pad from his nightstand and held it out for Clint to take. 

“But...”

“Take the StarkPad. I insist.” Tony propped on his elbow now and smirked at Clint.

“You sure?” Clint asked, his brow raised.

“I'm sure.” 

“I mean, are you absolutely sure that you want me to take that StarkPad to...” Clint pointed at the Pad Tony was holding up to him.

“Yes, I'm pretty sure.”

“Okay, if you're sure and if you insist. But don't forget, you take the responsibility.” 

Tony rolled his eyes and wanted to lie back when Clint took the Pad and smashed it beside his bed onto the floor.

“Fuck! What are you doing!” Tony yelped and scrambled over to him to look at the destroyed StarkPad. He gaped at him disbelievingly.

“You insisted.” Clint shrugged and picked up the remains from the Pad.

“But... but... why did you have to destroy it?” He still stared at the parts on the floor.

“There was this ugly spider beside the bed and I wanted to kill it with a newspaper. But you wanted me to take your StarkPad.” 

“But I thought you wanted to read the news!” Tony ran his hand through his hair.

“You never let me tell you what I wanted to do with it.” Clint shrugged and Tony shut his mouth with an audible sound.

“You killed a spider with _my_ StarkPad,” Tony asked with an unreadable expression and Clint nodded. And suddenly he burst out with laughter, let himself fall back onto the bed and Clint could see him laugh himself to tears.

“Uhm... Tony? You okay?” 

“Yes,” he still giggled. “That spider never knew what fucking hit it!” 

Clint raised his brows and shook his head but with a big grin on his face. 

“Sometimes you are really ridiculous.” 

“And I really love you,” Tony added and straddled Clint now to place a kiss on his lips.


	2. The cocktail factory

Clint just came back from SHIELD-HQ. Fury demanded that he trained with a few junior agents on the range. It was a disaster and he was glad that none of them had shot himself. He talked to Maria and said they should hire a new weapons instructor.

With a slight headache he stepped into the elevator to drive up to the communal floor. When the cabin stopped and he left it he heard a few people in the living room and one of the voices was Tony's. He found his lover, Tasha, Thor and Rhodes sitting on the couch, playing Mario Kart on their Wii. And on the coffee table they had the most ridiculous construction Clint had ever seen. Lots of bottles and a champagne bucket with ice. In the bottles were straws, linked together with different joints. Each straw went through a glass filled with ice. 

“Uhm... do I want to know?” he asked when he stood behind them and Tony turned, brightly grinning.

“Cupcake! You're home!” He jumped up and turned on the couch, grabbed Clint and kissed him passionately over the backrest. Clint could taste Rum and coconut and pineapple. 

“Hmm, you taste... yummy,” he grinned and looked over his shoulder. He saw Tony's straw in a bottle of rum linked to a bottle of cream of coconut linked to a bottle of pineapple juice, passing through a glass filled with ice and then to Tony. 

Tasha just sucked on her straw and Clint could see that it went from a bottle of vodka linked to a bottle of tonic, passing through another glass of ice to her. 

“We play Mario Kart and drink cocktails.” 

“You call this cocktails?” Clint lifted his brow when he heard Thor cheer. Apparently he just won. 

“Yeah...” Tony grinned broadly. It seemed as if they did that quite some time now. “At first we made cocktails on the usual way but then we had to stop always and we couldn't drink while playing and so we built our own cocktail-factory.” 

Clint looked once again at the table. There was another bottle of vodka linked to a bottle of Blue Curacao and to two bottles of lemonade, cooled with the usual run-through an ice filled glass and that was Rhodes' Blue Lagoon. 

“What's that what Thor has?” he asked, now curious. 

“That's a Powerscourt. Brandy, lime juice, orange juice, Crème de Peche.” 

“Hmm... sounds delicious.” Clint smirked and Tony kissed him again.

“You want some? I can totally make you your own straw-cocktail.” He wanted to turn around but Clint held him.

“No, if you want to make a straw-cocktail, how about a White Russian?” He jumped over the backrest of the couch, kissed Clint once more before he went to the bar to get the Kahlua.

“When you distract our fourth player you could at least be so polite to take his place.” Tasha grumbled and Clint grinned and climbed onto the backrest, took Tony's wheel, chose Wario and they started the game. He lost.


	3. I will repay, saith the Darcy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bortaS bIr jablu’DI’ reH QaQqu’ nay’  
> (Klingon Proverb)

“Okay, they are still in the living room, watching Hellboy,” Tony whispered and Clint sneaked into the kitchen, a plastic bag hidden in his jeans pocket. 

“I have them,” he also whispered and Tony grinned like a loon. 

“You keep watch, I prepare the fridge,” Tony took the plastic bag Clint handed him and then Clint opened the door quietly a tiny crack. 

“Come on, the film is almost over.” 

“Yeah, yeah, don't rush me, I'm an old man with a cardiac problem.” 

“Cardiac problem my ass but if you don't move faster Jane or Darcy will be here before you are done,” Clint looked over his shoulder and saw Tony working as fast as he could, the grin still on his face. They knew after a movie one of the two would go to the kitchen to get their fruit snacks. 

“Okay, I'm done.” Tony finally said and came over to him. 

Together they sneaked back into the living room where Tony flopped down on his loveseat and Clint disappeared through the vents to the lower floor only to drive up with the elevator for everyone to hear. When he entered the living room he took the seat beside Tony, placed his leg over Tony's like usual. Only Natasha looked at him for a long moment before she lifted her brow. He winked and took Tony's hand and Nat rolled her eyes. 

After the movie, when the credits started Jane looked at Darcy and they both communicated through glances and then, with a theatrical sigh, Darcy rose and went to the kitchen. With a grin Clint leaned over and kissed Tony passionately when they heard a scream. All of them scrambled up from their seats and ran to the kitchen and saw Darcy in front of the fridge looking wide-eyed at the fruits on the floor, staring up at them with the googly eyes Tony had put on them. 

Jane stared open-mouthed, Thor and Rhodey furrowed their brows, Natasha pursed her lips, Steve folded his arms in front of his chest, Bruce held his hand over his mouth to hide the smirk he had on his face and then all turned to Tony and Clint, both grinning like mad men. 

“You!” Darcy pointed at them and Clint's grin disappeared. She reached for her purse, leaning on one of the counters.

“Uh oh,” he managed when he saw Darcy's glare and they both scrambled out of the kitchen. Just in time because a second later the electrodes of her taser hit the doorjamb.

“You can't hide! I'll find you!” She yelled and the genius and the archer darted off as fast as possible. They both made it to Tony's workshop where he closed the door behind them and they climbed into the back of one of the cars, closed the doors and ducked.

“She's scary when she's furious,” Tony admitted, still grinning.

“You're right.” Clint whispered and peeped over the front seats but no one was outside of the workshop.

“Guess we're stuck here for some time,” Tony murmured and looked over to Clint and the younger man leered at him with a grin. “On the other hand, there are a few things I wanted to do to you in here for a long time now.” Tony leaned over and kissed him, his hand already on Clint's waist.

 

 

It was early in the morning when they both sneaked out of the workshop and up the stairs. They just wanted to go to their bedroom, when Clint slumped down twitching with taser electrodes in his back and Tony turned to find a malicious grinning Darcy. 

“You know what they say... Revenge is a meal best served cold.”


	4. Like

Tony lounged on the couch, watching 'Doctor Who' and working at his StarkPad at the same time, when he heard the elevator. He looked up and saw Clint arrive. He'd been on a mission with Sitwell god knows where in South Africa and apparently it didn't went too well. The archer looked rumpled, he had scratches and bruises in his face and the right arm was in a cast.

“Holy mother of god, what happened?” Tony asked the moment he saw all the injuries the younger man had.

“Don't ask. It's too embarrassing.” Clint growled, leaned down to steal a kiss and then he flopped down beside Tony. 

“What are you doing?” he asked and looked over Tony's shoulder onto the StarkPad.

“I had a few ideas. I know we talked about a suit of armor for you...” 

“No! Still no. Every armor will slow me down and limit my flexibility.” 

“But something like that wouldn't happen.” Tony pointed at the cast. “What is it this time?” 

“Broken wrist, broken thumb,” Clint mumbled.

“Oh, that's why you give me the thumbs up?” Tony fumbled at the cast and grinned. 

“Idiot,” Clint slapped his wrist and placed his broken arm down on his stomach, leaned himself against Tony and turned to watch 'Doctor Who'. 

“Rise of the Cybermen?” he asked after a few seconds and Tony nodded.

“Yup.” He placed his hand around the archer's waist and it didn't take too long and the younger man drifted off to sleep. That always happened when medical gave him painkillers. Tony once again looked down at the cast and wished, Clint would accept a proper armor. But first he was right, it would limit his abilities and second, he's way too stubborn to admit Tony might be right as well.

He looked at the cast and his _thumbs up!_ and then he grinned. Carefully he reached for the pencil case he had on the end table beside the couch and searched for a blue felt pen.

 

 

Clint woke a few hours later. Tony was gone but he had placed a few cushions for him to lie on and he had thrown a blanket over him. Clint smiled. Mother hen, he thought and went to the kitchen. He was hungry but when he opened the fridge he only saw light and mustard. 

With a sigh he padded to the elevator to drive down to the communal floor. There was always something to eat in the fridge.

But apparently he had missed something because everyone he met seemed to be good-humored, all of them smiled at him and when Clint entered the kitchen to find Steve even the super-soldier grinned when he saw him. 

“Okay, why are you all so cheerful?” Clint asked now and stared at Thor and Banner who just wanted to enter the kitchen as well. 

“I don't know... but I think you _like_ it,” Bruce smirked and pointed at Clint's cast and now he saw it. Someone (Tony!!!) had painted a blue cuff onto it and written “Like” behind it. It looked like the 'Facebook' like symbol. Clint stared at it for a few seconds and then his head snapped up when he heard his lovers voice from the living room. 

“Tony!” Clint called and he could hear a “Uh oh” from the genius. 

“You want to explain this?” he held up his arm with the cast. 

Tony looked at him, grinned, gave him the thumbs up and added, “I like it!” before he left the room hastily with a certain archer behind him.


	5. Asshole parking

Hanson Harper, 37 years old, was one of the younger managers of SI. He just got promoted and removed to New York together with his wife and their son. This afternoon he had his first meeting with Ms. Potts and Tony Stark himself. He was late and didn't have a personal parking space yet so he drove into the public part of the parking garage below Stark Tower. He found an empty space to park his car and... well... the car was brand new. He got it two days ago and it was a silver Porsche 918 Spyder he treated himself with. It was the most beautiful car he ever had seen _and_ owned. It was one of the first because the delivery started just a few days ago and it cost a small fortune. He was really proud of this car and to be one of the few who got one because it's limited on 918 units. 

It should be understandable that he didn't want to get this car damaged. Hanson didn't trust other drivers. So when he found two empty parking spaces he put his car in the middle and over the line so no one could park beside him. At least not too close to damage this beauty. And it's not that these two spaces were the last ones, there were other empty spaces in the garage left. 

He just walked around the corner when he heard a voice. 

“Hey, asshole!” 

Hanson didn't see any other people around and he was in a hurry, but he was curious and turned. Only to find a short, blond guy in a leather jacket and with a motorcycle helmet over one arm glare at him. 

“Yes, I mean you. You know that you're supposed to park _between_ the lines and not on them?”

“What are you? The parking attendant?” Hanson went back to stare down at the smaller man who was probably a few years younger than him. 

“No. But you can't leave the car on two spaces,” the blond stared back. 

“And what's a little runt like you going to do about it?” he snarled and the guy suddenly started to flash him a shit-eating grin. 

“Oh... this and that,” he said and left the stunned Hanson. He just shook his head and hurried to the elevator. 

Of course he arrived five minutes too late in Ms. Potts office. When her assistant announced him and he went in he found the red haired woman he knew from his time in Los Angeles sitting behind a huge desk in her stylish office and on one of the visitor chairs lounged Tony Stark, toying with his phone. 

“Mr. Harper,” Ms. Potts greeted and he shook her offered hand. Mr. Stark just nodded at him. “I'm so sorry, for being late. But there was this guy in the parking garage and he... he complained about my parking and... I'm really sorry. It won't happen again.” Mr. Stark looked up, knitted his brows and then turned his head to Ms. Potts.

“This guy... was he blond, short and with a leather jacket?” she asked and Hanson nodded.

“Yes, and he had a motorcycle helmet.” She raised her brow and looked at Mr. Stark who rolled his eyes, sighed and took his phone. 

“Hey babe, are you currently in the parking garage?... Yes... Okay, I see... No, don't do... Okay... Just... don't repeat the same shit like with the BMW last week... no... Okay, fine, I owe you one... See you later.” Mr. Stark finished the call and laid the phone on Ms. Potts desk. 

“He won't do anything harmful to your car, he promised.” Mr. Stark smiled when Hanson lost all the color in his face.

“Ha... harmful?” he stuttered and swallowed. “What do you mean with harmful? The car is brand new.” 

“He hates churlishness, guess he talks too much to Cap. Last time someone used two parking spaces he shot at the tires with his arrows.” Mr. Stark shrugged.

“Arrows? You mean... real arrows?” And then his brain started to work again. _He was in New York, he was in Stark Tower. Mr. Stark was Iron Man. And he lived in Stark Tower together with the other Avengers. Together with his boyfriend, Hawkeye, who used to be an archer. Who shot with arrows on aliens and other creatures. Oh god, he had just called his boss's boyfriend a little runt. And he shot with arrows on tires of a car._ The next half hour was pure torture. He had to force himself to not constantly think of his Porsche and arrows and destroyed tires. 

When they were finally done here he needed all his self-control to not run to the elevators. He pressed the button and waited for the cabin when he saw _the little runt_ , leaning against a pillar, apparently waiting for someone. The guy turned his head, saw him, grinned and threw a mocking salute in his direction before Mr. Stark appeared behind him, wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed him. 

Hanson fled into the arriving cabin and drove down to the garage and there he couldn't restrain himself, he ran to his car. He found a few other people sniggering and looking at his Porsche. 

The little runt had drawn two lines onto the ground, one on each side of his car and had written **ASSHOLE PARKING** behind it. And on the rear window he could see **ASSHOLE!!**

“No!” Hanson yelled and ran to his car but it was just hand cream and not real paint. He sighed and leaned against the Porsche. 

“Let me give you a word of advise,” a man said. He wore a black suit and on his security pass Hanson could read the name Hogan. “As long as your name isn't Natasha Romanov you better don't piss Clint off. The last one who used two spaces found the driver's seat beside his car.” 

“Thanks. I will keep that in mind.” And he decided, that he would buy another car to drive to work with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by: [Asshole parking](http://www.loler.me/index.php?id=50132)


	6. PBJ 2.0

Tony nearly jumped out of his skin when he suddenly felt a hand on his waist. But in the next second he had a certain archer's lips on his neck.

“Hey, babe. I'm home,” he grinned when he turned Tony around.

“Are you completely nuts? One day I will get a cardiac arrest and it's totally your fault.” He grumbled but couldn't resist to lean in to kiss the younger man.

“What are you doing?” Clint looked at the taken apart Iron Man suit on the work bench. 

“Mark 45's stabilizers are making troubles but I can't find the problem.” Tony explained and pointed at some of the parts behind him. 

“How long are you here?” Clint asked worriedly. He had been in London, UK for the last two weeks. They had searched for a weapons dealer who got his stuff from AIM and sold it to terrorists. They found him and he had spilled his guts and they could arrest his suppliers as well. 

“I don't know, a few hours I guess,” Tony answered vaguely.

“Two days, four hours, thirty-six minutes to be exactly, sir.” Jarvis interjected.

“Traitor,” Tony mumbled when he saw Clint's expression.

“Two days? Tony, are you nuts?” 

“No... I've taken a few naps on my couch.” He squawked. 

“Have you eaten?” Clint folded his arms in front of his chest.

“Yes, I... I had... a few snickers...” Tony pointed at the empty wrappers. 

“Snickers. Okay.” Clint cocked his head. “Come on... with me.” He took Tony's hand and pulled him to the door.

“I can't.. I'm not done with the stabilizers. They...” 

“... are still here in a few hours,” Clint finished his sentence and shoved Tony into the elevator.

He placed the older man onto one of the barstools in the kitchen. 

“So, any preferences?” Clint asked and cocked his head. 

“PBJ.” He smirked.

“PBJ? You sure?” Clint lifted his brow. But when Tony nodded he shrugged and started to rummage in the cupboards and the fridge. Tony didn't pay too close attention to what he was doing, he just enjoyed the view of his ass in the tight leather pants he still wore.

“Here,” Clint said shortly after and placed a plate in front of Tony. On it were two slices of bread. Tony looked at them, then at Clint.

“What's that?” he frowned.

“PBJ 2.0,” Clint said and grinned. He pointed at the rows on the first slice of bread. “Jam, honey, marshmallow.” And then at the columns on the other slice. “Crunchy, Nutella, creamy. Nine different flavor combinations when you close it.” 

Tony stared at the plate in front of him and then grinned. “You're a genius,” he leaned over to kiss the archer before he closed the sandwich and enjoyed the taste of creamy with jam.


	7. The peaches's ass

“... can't expect me to be always there to listen to those old geezers complain about...” Tony rambled while he left the elevator at the common floor together with Pepper but drifted off when he saw an angry (!!) Steve coming out of the kitchen with an just as angry Thor in tow. The only difference was that Thor was drenched in coffee and had tiny bits of _something_ in his hair. 

“Have you seen that archer of yours?” Steve planted himself in front of Tony and poked his finger in Tony's chest, right above the ARC-reactor. 

“Uhm... no. I've been at SI _and_ I have an alibi,” he said and looked at Pepper and saw her nodding. “Why are you searching for him?” 

“Because I'm going to wring his neck,” Steve stated matter-of-factly and Thor nodded vehemently behind him and plucked the bits of... toast?... out of his hair. 

Steve grabbed Thor and together they went back to search for Clint. Tony looked at Pepper and she shrugged but was already on her way to the kitchen. He followed her. He knew that Steve and Thor wouldn't find Clint if he didn't want to be found. He knew that fucking tower better than Tony. 

In the kitchen they found Bruce wiping the floor where Tony could see more coffee and bits of toast with paper towels while Natasha cleaned the table of the same mess. 

“Do I want to know what happened here?” Pepper asked and Tony saw a smile appear on Natasha's face when she spotted Pepper. 

Bruce rose from the floor, sighed, grabbed a peach and gave it to Pepper. She looked at it and then nearly choked. Someone had drawn tiny hands on it, on the bottom where the blossoms rest would be. But with the shape of the peach it looked like an ass held wide open. 

“Steve was at the farmer's market and bought peaches. And when he wanted to eat one he found this,” Bruce explained. “He choked, spit his toast at Thor and Thor, who just drank coffee, spilled it over himself.” 

“And now they think Clint had drawn those hands on the peach?” 

“Who else would do this aside from you?” Bruce cocked his head and Tony put a hand over his chest. 

“Ouch, et tu, Brute?” 

“It was you,” Pepper suddenly said and pointed at Natasha who tried to fake an innocent expression. 

“Why would I do such a thing?” She said but couldn't repress a smirk. 

“Because you're an evil, evil person,” Tony grinned, slapped Bruce's arm and pointed at the door, indicating that he should follow him and leave the two women and their crush alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by: [The peaches's ass](https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=306081192876722&set=p.306081192876722&type=1&theater)


	8. Caw caw, motherfucker

Steve found Clint in Tony's workshop. He and Sam Wilson rushed in while the archer sat on one of the worktables with Tony between his legs and both were heavily kissing and making out. He planted himself behind Tony, his arms folded and his patented _Captain-America-disapproves_ expression on his face. 

“Have you shot down Sam?” he spat but it was Tony who turned his head a fraction and mumbled, “Go away, Rogers.” 

“Clint?” Steve snarled again and this time the archer finally looked at him. 

“Steve?” He said and Steve had to take a deep breath to not strangle him right here. He could hear the tone of mischief in his voice.

“Have you shot down Sam?” He pointed at his companion, glaring as furiously as he himself. Clint saw the man's arm in a sling and a few scratches in his face. Tony turned around as well and Steve gritted his teeth when he realized the bulges both men had in their pants. 

“Yep.” Clint nodded and smirked.

“You don't deny it?” Steve frowned now. 

“Why should I? I mean, he'd seen me and honestly, how many archers do you know? How many archers, who can shoot an arrow this precisely into only one of the jets of his jetpack that he still was able to land?” Tony still nuzzled his throat and Clint giggled slightly. 

“He's injured.” Steve pointed at the cast Sam had around his wrist.

“Is it my fault when he flies into a tree?” Clint asked and wrapped his legs back around Tony. 

“Could you please concentrate for a few seconds?” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and Clint shoved Tony back a bit. 

“Okay. Fine, Cap?” Steve tried to not look at the genius still touching Clint.

“Why... why on earth would you shoot down Sam?” The other man stood behind Cap and tried to look threateningly but with the cast and the sling around his neck the main effect was lost.

“Because he stole my line.” Clint took Tony's hand from his leg and placed it back on Tony's.

“He stole your... what are you talking about?” Steve was more confused as he had been when he came in.

“'Caw caw, motherfucker' is _my_ line! He can't fly around our roof garden and call out my line!” Tony's hand was under Clint's shirt and tickled the sensitive part over his abs now and Clint had given up to try to keep him off.

“That's your problem?” Sam threw in and glared at Clint. 

“That's my problem. Yes. I've told you thrice but no one gets more than three warnings.”

“Since when do you warn three times? I've thought it was two times tops” Tony murmured and squeezed one of Clint's nipples. 

“Could you please stop that!” Steve barked and Tony shook his head. 

“Nope.” And Steve knew exactly, only a few minutes later and they would've caught the two fucking. 

“So, you want to tell me that you've risked the life of a man just because he used your line?” 

“If you put it this way it sounds a little bit negative but... yes, that was what I've said.” 

“You can't kill a man just because _he used your line_!” Steve nearly yelled now while Tony suckled a hickey into Clint's throat. 

“I didn't kill him. He's still alive. And honestly, Cap, he's never really been in danger. I know this genius engineer who showed me the perfect spot, you know. If I were him I wouldn't use the line anymore. It's my trademark. But I'm sorry for the thing with the tree.” Steve stared at Clint disbelievingly and then he shook his head.

“Insane! Completely and utterly nuts. That's... you are...” He looked another second and then turned around and left. “Totally bananas! All of them!” he grumbled and muttered on his way out of the workshop and Tony lifted his head and glanced at Sam.

“So... leave your jetpack outside and I take a look at it later and if you don't want to see me fuck Clint into that workbench I'd suggest you follow Cap,” he grinned lecherous and the other man hastily left as well.

“You wouldn't really shoot him down for using your line, would you?” he asked when the door was closed behind them and Clint grinned, pulled Tony into another hug and whispered, “Caw caw, motherfucker!” into his ear.


	9. Ear-hats

“What's that?” Tony asked when he had unwrapped his gift and stared at it. 

“What does it look like?” Clint smirked, his arms wrapped around his waist and his chin leaning on his shoulder, looking at the gift himself. 

“They look...” Tony held them up and frowned. Clint couldn't see it but he knew that he frowned. He always knew. “They look like hats but... I don't have a hamster who can wear them.” 

Tony turned his face and his nose brushed Clint's cheek but then he stepped back a bit. “Seriously, what are they?” He asked again and Clint took one.

“Ear-hats,” he said and put one of the tiny, hand-knitted hats and pulled it over Tony's left ear so the tip was covered by it. 

“You're kidding, right?” Tony stared at the other hat in his hand and stared at Clint incredulously. 

“Nope.” Clint shook his head but stepped back a bit, took the other hat and put it on Tony's other ear. 

“I always thought ear-hats are those things with the Mickey Mouse ears on it,” Tony muttered and touched them carefully.

“I don't know. But these are hats for your ears.” 

“They are warm,” Tony stated. Clint couldn't hold back a laughter because it looked so fucking hilarious. 

“Sorry, babe,” he grinned, when he had himself under control again. 

“Hey, you made them,” Tony pouted but didn't remove them. 

“Yes, I know.” Clint took the last hat, a bigger one, out of the box and put it on Tony's head. 

“Tell me, why did you make me ear-hats?” Tony asked and moved to a mirror to look at himself with the hat and the ear-hats on. And Clint had been right. He looked frickin hilarious and he couldn't hold back a broad grin himself. 

“Because your ears are always so cold from fall to spring and before you get sick I made you ear-hats so you have warm ears and I made you a real hat so you have a warm head as well. And if you want to I can make you a matching scarf and gloves, too.” Clint said and Tony cocked his head.

“I didn't know that you know how to knit,” he said and looked at himself with his cute, tiny ear-hats. 

“Natasha taught me. It was boring on some of the observations and she started to knit and at some point I was bored out of my mind and had to do something with my hands. And so she taught me. Have you seen that green scarf she sometimes wears?” 

“Yes,” Tony turned around to look at Clint now. “You made it?” 

“It was my first try. It's not perfect but she likes it,” he smiled and went over to Tony to wrap his arms around his middle again. And when Tony smiled Clint couldn't resist, he had to kiss him, long and passionately. 

“Good looking and talented and a little bit weird. I don't know what I've done to deserve you,” Tony murmured before he kissed Clint again. “So...” he said when they parted, “Can we negotiate about the matching scarf and the gloves now?” 

“What do you have in mind?” Clint asked and tilted his head.

“Hmmm, let me think... I guess I have a good idea.” Tony smiled, took Clint's hand and led him to the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Ear-hats](http://cdn.fashionablygeek.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/12/ear-hat.jpg)


	10. 2639$ and a hangover

He groaned. His head hurt. He didn't want to open his eyes because he knew that the light would hurt even more. 

“Clint,” someone whispered close to his ear.

“Hmmm,” he grunted and moved his hand sluggishly to shoo the voice away. 

“Hey, babe,” the voice said again and Clint moved his hand again, slapped a face and heard a chuckle. 

“Lemme die,” he mumbled and searched for something to pull over his head. Maybe that would kill the headache. 

“No one dies today. I've painkillers for you,” the voice whispered again and he finally opened one eye a tiny bit. It wasn't too bright and the face not far away from his was Tony's. 

“Who hit me with his truck?” He grumbled and Tony chuckled again.

“You've tried to outdrink Thor and Natasha.” 

“Ahh... no... not again,” Clint groaned but carefully he sat up. Tony grabbed his hand, dropped two pills in it and shoved a glass of water into his other hand. He glared at the older man for a few seconds before he threw the pills into his mouth and washed them down with the water. “Uaghh.” He had no idea that water could taste so disgusting. 

“Come on, let's get you into the shower. You stink.” Tony grabbed Clint's hand and lifted him up. He stumbled into his arms and with a laugh Tony caught him, held him and waited till Clint regained his balance. 

“Why does the world spin around?” Clint mumbled into his beard and Tony once again couldn't hold back a chuckle. He wrapped his arm around his shoulder and helped him into the bathroom.

“Honey, Steve said you've been so smashed that you couldn't leave on your own feet. He and Thor had to drag you out of the bar.” 

“Where have you been?” Clint asked and turned his head but that wasn't a good idea in hindsight. The world started to spin again and he felt his stomach heave. 

“Honey, I've told you that I had to be in a video conference with our office in Tokyo. But apparently you've had enough fun without me.” Tony started to strip him out of his shirt and Clint managed to sit on the closed toilet before he fell onto his face. 

“No,” Clint slurred. “Only half the fun without you.” He leaned against the wall and watched Tony peel him out of his pants. When he pulled them down the pockets turned inside out and bills fell onto the floor. Many bills. 

“Okay,” Tony said, looked at the money on the tiles and raised his brow. 

“That's a lot of money,” Clint mumbled and stared at the bills as well. Tony put Clint's pants onto the counter, leaned down and started to collect the money. And while he picked it up he counted it. 

“That's two thousand six hundred thirty nine dollars, Clint.” He looked up. 

“Oh.” Clint blinked a few times and Tony put the money onto the counter as well. 

“You have any idea why you have so much money in your jeans?” Tony asked.

“I have no idea. I think I had a blackout,” Clint grinned sheepishly and Tony raised his brow. 

“Ya think?” 

Tony rose, grabbed Clint's hand and pulled him up. He turned on the water in the shower, shoved Clint in and followed him after removing his own clothes in an instant. 

Thirty minutes and a satisfying handjob later both, Clint and Tony, went down to the common floor where the others just sat and had breakfast. Clint's headache was mostly gone and he slumped down in his usual chair. Tony took the seat beside him. Steve grinned broadly when he saw him and Bruce rose without a comment, filled two plates with waffles and handed them to Clint who gave one to Tony and put the other one onto the table in front of him. 

“Thanks, Bruce,” he murmured and started to eat quietly. Tony and Bruce talked and Natasha turned to Steve to continue with their conversation while Thor inhaled huge amounts of food and coffee. 

“So,” Clint mumbled when he had finished his waffles and refilled his mug. “Anyone of you up to tell me why I had more than two thousand dollars in my pocket? I know that I had only about fifty dollars with me when I left.” 

“You can't remember?” Steve asked and raised his brow.

“No. I didn't rob a bank, did I?” he asked and Thor laughed now. 

“No, my friend. You did not. You demonstrated your ability to play a game named darts to the great displeasure of all your opponents,” he declared, maybe a tiny bit too loud for Clint. 

“You cleaned out the entire bar while Thor had to hold you upright,” Steve added and the Asgardian nodded confirming. 

“What do you mean he had to hold me upright?” Clint frowned. He couldn't remember too much from last night. And he definitely couldn't remember to have played darts. 

“You've been so smashed that you couldn't stand on your own. But when you've laughed at a few guys who played darts and told them that you could do it better with one arm tied onto your back they wanted to see it and challenged you. And you won,” Natasha explained. 

“I won two thousand dollars while playing darts with a few guys?” he asked.

“... and six hundred thirty nine.” Tony added quietly. 

“No, not only with a few guys. With all of them. You played against the whole bar. And Thor had to hold you all the time or you would've fallen onto your face. Then you bought a few big rounds and that's what's left of your win,” Bruce chuckled. 

“I can't remember,” Clint admitted. 

“That's hardly surprising. After all the alcohol you, Thor and Natasha drank I wonder that you're still alive.” Steve patted his shoulder with an evil smirk, something no one expected him to be able to. 

“Oh,” Clint said and took the money out of his pocket and gave it to Steve. “I guess I should do something useful with it. Give it to Sam, maybe he can use it in his V.A. hospital.” 

“That's a good idea. And very generous,” Steve said and Clint shrugged. 

“That's why I love you,” Tony murmured and kissed Clint. 

“Next time you come with me and stop me,” Clint whispered and kissed Tony again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by: [Bland Marvel Headcanon](http://blandmarvelheadcanons.tumblr.com/post/97163092206/everyone-knows-clint-barton-is-the-best-in-the-biz)


	11. Papercut

“OUCH!! Fuck!” Tony heard Clint yell and he jumped up from the couch where he had just waited for him. They wanted to watch 'The usual suspects', Clint's favorite movie, together and Clint said he wanted to make popcorn. Tony hurried over to the kitchen to see Clint with his left index finger in his mouth.

“What's wrong?” He asked, concerned.

“I just hurt myself,” the archer mumbled around his finger. Tony looked around but he couldn't see blood or anything with which he could've hurt himself.

“Show me,” he said but Clint shook his head.

“Come on, show me,” Tony repeated and reached for Clint's hand. Reluctantly he gave in and let Tony see his finger. But there wasn't anything to see. 

“Uhm... Clint?” Tony frowned and cocked his head. Clint squeezed a bit and a tiny, tiny gap became visible.

“A papercut?” He blurted out and Clint pulled away his hand to put his finger back into his mouth, glaring at him.

“It hurts!” he grumbled, went to the bathroom to get a band aid.

“Come on, Clint. It's just a papercut.” Tony followed him and watched him fumbling with the band aid.

“It hurts!” He repeated and glared even more at him. 

“It's just a papercut, Clint. You've had worse. Far worse. You remember Ankara? They had tortured you for three days straight and when we found you, you made bad puns with the EMTs.” Tony took the band aid and Clint's hand, dried it with the towel and patched him up. 

“A papercut _is_ a serious injury. People died on papercuts,” he whined.

“No one dies on a papercut, Clint.” 

“But it fucking hurts!” He repeated like a petulant child.

“I have an idea. I'll make it better, okay?” Tony smirked and when Clint nodded, he took his hand and kissed his finger. “Better?” 

“Not much,” Clint said, still pouting. Tony chuckled slightly and kissed his finger again. And again.

“And now?” 

“It starts to work.” 

Tony's smirk broadened, he placed one hand on Clint's cheek, leaned over and kissed his lips, slow, sensual, passionately. 

“Better,” Clint admitted, licked his lips and showed a tiny smirk.

Tony chuckled again and took Clint's hand again.

“I guess I know how to treat your serious, serious injury,” he said and led him out of the kitchen, through the living room to one of the corridors. 

“But the movie...” Clint protested.

“No, honey. Your wellbeing is more important. We can watch the movie tomorrow.” 

“What do you have in mind?” Clint smirked now and followed Tony to the bedroom.

“Full-body treatment. Just to be on the safe side.” 

“Okay. I guess I can live with that.” 

“Can't let you die on a papercut. People would laugh at me.” Tony giggled and Clint slapped the back of his head, but then he leaned over and kissed him, his hands – yes, the _injured_ one, too – on Tony's ass. “I knew you'd like my plan.” 

“Love you, babe.”


	12. Happy Birthday, Cunt

Tony was in the kitchen on the communal floor. He wore his favorite sweatpants, a sleeveless shirt, no socks or shoes. And a frilly apron. 

Steve stopped in the doorframe as if he had run against a brick wall. His brows tried to crawl into his headline and he couldn't shut his mouth. Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, stood in the kitchen in a frilly apron and decorated a cake, his tongue stuck between his lips and he was so concentrated, Steve was sure if he would touch him Tony would jump out of his skin. 

The cake was quadratic, coated with chocolate and already decorated with some white frosting and right now Tony wrote something on it. 

Carefully, when Tony just looked at the cake, Steve cleared his throat and Tony spun around, his eyes wide as saucers. But then he saw that it was him and he relaxed. 

“Jesses,” he gasped. “I've thought it was _him_ ,” he said, the last word only mouthed as if he would appear when he just mentioned him. Steve knew whom he meant: Clint. 

“Where is your better half?” Steve asked casually and came over and Tony sighed. 

“He's up in the penthouse and mopey since he's grounded. And now I had to sneak out of my fucking apartment and bake this cake down here. JARVIS monitors him, at the moment he's playing some games on his X-Box.” Tony wiped his forehead and smeared chocolate onto it. Steve had to bite the inside of his cheeks to not grin. It looked really cute. 

“So, this is his birthday cake?” He asked and Tony proudly nodded. Steve went over to him to take a look at it. But then...

“Uhm... Tony?” 

“Yeah?” The genius looked at him, proudly grinning and still chocolate frosting on his forehead. 

“Uhm...” Steve looked at the cake again. Tony had tried to write **Happy Birthday, Clint** but he wrote the L and the I too close and now it looked like an U. 

“Happy Birthday, Cunt,” a voice suddenly said and both men spun around. Clint stood in the kitchen behind them, looked over their shoulders at the cake and had one brow raised. 

“What... how... JARVIS!” Tony started but Clint furrowed his brows, still looked at the cake.

“You honestly think I can't outmaneuver JARVIS?” He looked up for a second and then back at the cake. “There's something you want to tell me?” He asked then and Tony sighed. 

“It's your birthday cake and it should be a surprise. And it's Clint, not cunt,” Tony grumbled.

Clint frowned even more and turned to Steve. 

“Uhm... actually...” Steve started and licked his lips. “the L and the I are a little bit too close.” 

“It's my first time, for crying out loud,” Tony threw his arms in the air and leaned against the counter. And then he looked at the cake. “Yeah, maybe the L and the I are too close.” 

Clint pursed his lips with an amused streak around them, leaned over to Tony, kissed him and then he wiped away a tiny part of the white frosting with his finger and touched Tony's nose with it. 

“See, now it's better,” he grinned when he saw the white dot on Tony's nose. And Tony's grin became devilish, he grabbed Clint and rubbed his nose along Clint's. 

“Uhm... guys. I...” Steve said but when he realized that the two of them seemed to have forgotten that he was here, he sighed, turned, and left the kitchen. 

“Happy Birthday, Clint,” he mumbled and went to the elevator. He had a _date_ with a punching bag and some things he didn't need to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Clint's birthday cake](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/post/105264517772/mynameisbruni-methhomework-this-was-for-a)


	13. The Hawk's nest

“Okay, I'll see you tomorrow morning in my office, Tony,” Pepper said, when he went to his waiting car. They both just came back from a business trip to Chicago and tomorrow they needed to talk about the results with the board members but they wanted to meet in Pepper's office first. Tony was tired and he wanted coffee, Clint and his bed, not necessarily in this order. His driver – the new guy, not Happy, since Happy drove Pepper nowadays – waited for him and opened the door. He fell into the seat and closed his eyes. He was really tired because sleeping in a plane was impossible for him.

Luckily he didn't need to tell the driver whereto he wanted. 

When he was at the tower, he rode up to the penthouse.

“JARVIS, is Clint at home?” he asked and leaned against the wall of the elevator.

“Yes, sir. He's in the living room at the moment,” JARVIS said and Tony smiled. Five days without his favorite archer was a world too long even if they had talked on the phone every day. 

When the elevator door went open and Tony stepped out of the car he got tackled by a certain blonde, pressing him against the nearest wall and kissing the living daylights out of him. 

“Heeey,” Clint drawled, when they finally separated and he smiled broadly.

“Yeah, I've missed you, too,” Tony said and cupped Clint's cheek. But then his eyes trailed away from Clint and to the living room behind him. “What the...” he blurted and stared incredulously... at a giant birds nest. With huge, white eggs. “Clint?” He asked.

“Tony?” The archer retorted. 

“What! Is! That!” When he left five days ago there was a couch in the living room and now there was this... monstrosity. 

“That's... a nest,” Clint said as if Tony couldn't see that himself. 

“But... but where's the couch?” He made a step into the living room, stopped and stared at Clint once more. 

“I gave it away,” Clint smirked when Tony's jaw dropped open. 

“But... the couch!” Tony wasn't able to build sentences anymore. He loved his couch, especially that one corner where he always cuddled with Clint. 

“You haven't tried my nest,” Clint grinned now and took Tony's hand to pull him over to the ugly building in the middle of his stylish living room. 

“Clint, I don't know... don't you think you take this whole bird... hawk-thing too far? You know, that _Hawk_ eye is only your codename, right? You're not really a hawk, you know that, right?” Tony sounded a little whiney. 

“I know that,” Clint winked. “But don't judge if you haven't tried it.” 

“Fine,” Tony mumbled and let Clint pull him to the _nest_. It was a little difficult at first to climb in but he managed it. Clint flopped in _his_ nest on his back and watched Tony with a broad grin on his face. But then, when he was in it and had lain down beside Clint, he had to admit that it was really cozy. The egg-shaped cushions were soft and fluffy and comfy and he could move them in the way he needed them. 

“Well?” Clint asked, propped on his elbow and watching him. 

“It's... not bad,” he said. He wouldn't admit that it was really comfortable. Clint's grin broadened and he leaned over to kiss Tony on his lips. 

“Admit it, you like it,” he whispered and placed his hand on Tony's abdomen. 

“It's not my couch but... it's okay,” he said. Clint raised a brow but then he tickled Tony's stomach and he couldn't hold back the laughter. He was very ticklish in this spot and Clint knew that. “Admit it,” he said and tickled him some more. 

“Okay, okay, okay, uncle!” Tony cried out and Clint stopped. “It's really comfortable,” he finally admitted and moved his ass a bit to look at Clint. “It's ugly as fuck but it's really nice,” he said.

“What?” Clint gasped in mocked indignation.

“Do you like it?” Tony asked and Clint raised a brow. 

“Of course, otherwise I wouldn't've bought it,” he smiled. 

“Well, then I like it, too,” Tony stated and Clint raised both brows now. 

“You can't just like it because I like it,” he complained but Tony put a finger over his mouth.

“Of course I can. And do you know, why? When you like it, it makes you happy. When you are happy, I am happy. See?” 

“You are a strange man, Tony Stark,” Clint murmured. 

“Yes, but I know that you love me,” Tony whispered and Clint leaned in and kissed him. 

“That's true. And now, let's do the dirty in my giant Hawk's nest. I've waited for you to come back for soooo long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Hawk's nest](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/post/114307760457/boredpanda-giant-birdnest-wooden-bed-filled-with)


	14. The name plate

“The fuck,” Tony muttered when he followed Clint through the vents. “How can you do this all the time?” 

“Shh, they'll hear us,” Clint whispered and pointed to one of the gratings. 

“But it's dirty and tight and dark in here,” Tony groused and Clint rolled his eyes but kept crawling.

“We're almost there,” he said quietly and Tony muttered under his breath while following him. “It's worth your while,” he sniggered. 

“Why are we doing this again?” Tony hissed, when he wiggled himself around one of the tight corners. He had no idea how Clint could move so smooth through these fucking vents. 

“Because it will be funny, Tony,” Clint whispered back, an unholy smirk on his face. “Shush, quiet now, we're here,” he pointed at the grating in front of them. 

“Is he in his office?” Tony asked and Clint shook his head. 

“No, it's empty. But let's make sure that he stays away,” he said and took a phone out of his pocket. He typed and when he sent the message, he grinned evilly at Tony.

“Is that Capsicle's phone?” Tony asked, his eyes wide as saucers. 

“Yup,” Clint nodded and Tony's eyes went even wider. 

“You've stolen Cap's phone?” he blurted. 

“Ah, stolen is such a harsh word, babe. I've borrowed it and when he's done with his workout, it will be in his locker again,” Clint grinned.

“You're an evil, evil man, Clint Barton,” Tony muttered but he couldn't hide the grin on his face. 

“Okay, I guess he will have the text by now,” Clint reached into the pocket of his pants and took out a screwdriver and opened the grating. He dived into the hole head first and managed to land on his feet nevertheless. When he was sure that he was alone, he sneaked to the chairs in front of the desk and put one under the hole in the ceiling. 

“Ready,” he said and Tony somehow managed to climb down without breaking all his bones. Clint grinned and removed a cobweb from out of his hair. 

“Do you have it?” Tony said and Clint reached into the pocket of his pants again. Sometimes they reminded him on Hermione Granger's small beaded purse. Clint pulled out the name plate with a grin, went to the desk, and replaced the name plate on it with the one in his hand. Tony smirked now as evilly as Clint and he couldn't help himself, he made a selfie with the new name plate with his phone. Clint shook his head slightly but then he gestured for the vent opening. 

“We should leave,” he said and Tony nodded. 

“Yeah,” Tony agreed and climbed back onto the chair and into the vent. Clint put the chair back and followed him and then he fastened the grating in its place. They wriggled around till they found a halfway comfortable position to wait and watch the office below them. 

They didn't have to wait too long, twenty minutes later the door opened and Fury rushed in, threw his coat onto the coat stand and flopped down in his desk chair. But he wasn't alone. Two men followed him and when Fury gestured at the chairs in front of the desk they sat down. And one of them, Senator Stern, - Tony was able to recognize this fucker everywhere – coughed and panted for breath. 

“Are you okay?” Fury snapped. Apparently he wasn't overly fond of having the two men in his office. 

“Yes, it's just... Fucker in charge of you fucking fucks?” Stern pointed at the name plate and read the text and the two men in the vent could see Fury furrowing his brows. He leaned over his desk, turned the plate around and read. One of his brows hit his non-existing hairline but nothing else. 

“Yeah, that's me,” Fury said and Tony saw his eye wander up to the ceiling and to the grating and he had to bite his hand to not laugh out loud at Fury's expression. 

“That's scandalous,” the other man said and rose. “We're leaving. But be assured, this will have consequences,” he spat, grabbed Stern's jacket and pulled him out of his chair. The man followed him and Fury only pursed his lips when he slammed the door shut. It was quiet for a few seconds, and then Fury spoke to the ceiling.

“Thanks, Barton. I had no idea that it could be so easy to get rid of those two... men,” he said and the pause between two and men was really telling. 

“You're welcome, sir,” Clint said, with a broad grin on his face. 

“Maybe you should explain to Mr. Stark, that it's not a good idea to wear after shave when he wants to break into my office,” Fury added. 

“Thank you, sir. We will keep that in mind,” Clint smirked. 

“And now, get lost, you two!” 

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Have a nice day,” Clint said and Fury rose. 

“Barton!” he said threateningly and Clint gestured for Tony to move. 

“We're outta here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this [picture](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/post/117942628337/dscrainbowdash-talonsandwings-his-face), written while listening to this [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=93LPwtJwZmk).


	15. The pink accident

“Barton!” Hill bellowed just a second before he made it out of the door. He winced inwardly and stopped.

“Yes?” He asked innocently and looked over his shoulder. 

“What's that?” Maria asked and pointed at one of the sheets he just dropped on her desk. He really thought he could make it out of her office before she would see it. 

“Uhm... that's my paperwork. You wanted it asap, remember?” he tried to distract her but Maria only pursed her lips.

“No, that,” she pointed at one of the reports and Clint licked his lips and then he smiled. 

“It's the mission report from the Guatemala mis...” he started but Maria interrupted him.

“No! Barton! That!” she pointed directly at one of the stains on it. 

“Oh, that. Uhm... it's a stain?” Clint tried to play dumb but Hill was having none of it. She glared at him angrily.

“And why is it on your paperwork?” she asked and folded her arms in front of her chest. 

“Oh, uhm... that wasn't my fault,” he said and looked over his shoulder. Only a few inches and he would be out of the door but it might as well be on the other end of the country right now.

“Right. Let me guess... Stark?” She asked. 

“It was an accident, honestly,” he said and she leaned back in her chair, sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose and pointed at the sheets again.

“What happened?” she asked and sounded annoyed. 

“Well, funny story...” he started...

 

_Clint was in the communal living room. He sat at the dining table surrounded by lots and lots of sheets of paper. Steve sat on the couch, reading, and every now and then he threw a glance in his direction. Maria had asked him to make sure that he, Clint, would finally fill in his paperwork. Most of it was due months ago and every time Maria had asked, he had another excuse but yesterday she ran out of patience and now he sat here and Steve made sure that he actually did his 'homework'._

_When Steve rose and came over to him, he looked up._

_“I need a coffee,” the super-soldier announced. “Do you want one, too?” he asked and Clint's face lit up._

_“Yeah, thanks, Steve. This is...” he waved his hand, “boring.”_

_“Maybe next time you fill it in right after the mission, then they won't pile up,” he shrugged and Clint sighed._

_“But it's boring,” he whined._

_“Luckily you're almost done,” Steve chuckled slightly but took Clint's empty mug and went to the kitchen._

_“Is he gone?” he heard another voice as soon as the door fell shut. Tony. Clint turned to see him leaning against the wall, a jar with something pinkish and a spoon in it in his hand. He strolled over to him, leaned down and kissed him. “Miss you,” he said and sat down beside him._

_“God, I hate this,” Clint said and waved at all the sheets on the table again._

_“I know. Luckily I'm not a SHIELD agent,” Tony grinned and took a spoonful of the pinkish substance out of the jar and shoved it in his mouth._

_“What's that?” Clint asked and looked at the jar._

_“Wanna try?” Tony replied instead of an answer, took another spoonful and held it out for Clint. He shrugged and tried it._

_“Hmm, that's tasty,” he said and looked at the jar again. “What is it?”_

_Tony looked at the jar now as well, furrowed his brows and then shrugged. Clint had taken the spoon out of his hand and just shoved another spoonful of the substance in his mouth, when Tony said, “I don't know, found it in Bruce's lab.”_

_And Clint spat it out. All over his paperwork. Everything, literally everything, was covered in this pink something. “What!?” he blurted and wiped his mouth, his tongue and Tony's grin broadened._

_“Relax, it's just yogurt,” he revealed and Clint stared at him incredulously._

_“What?” he looked at his soiled paperwork. Only two reports left and he would've been finished. And now... “Are you nuts?” He spat and glared at Tony now but the genius reached into his pocket, fumbled out one of the rags he used around his workshop and tried to wipe away the pink stains. And made it even worse._

_“Stop! You're ruining everything,” Clint whined and took the rag away._

_“Maybe... when you put these,” he held one of the lesser stained sheets in his hand, “on top, maybe she won't see it?”_

_But then they heard the kitchen door and Clint shuffled together all of the reports into one pile, put the least soiled sheet on top and his hand on the sheet. When Steve came around the corner and he saw Tony sitting beside him, he frowned._

_“You're supposed to stay away, Tony,” he said and the genius just shrugged._

_“I was on my way to the kitchen and just stopped for a tiny kiss,” he gave back with a smirk, rose, went to Steve, took Clint's mug and handed it to him before he turned to leave the living room._

_“And I'm almost done,” Clint said but didn't move his right hand away from the stains. He took a sip of his coffee and Steve furrowed his brows but when he smiled, the super-soldier just shook his head, took his own mug and went back to the couch. Inwardly Clint sighed. And grabbed his pen to fill in the last two reports._

 

 

“See? Totally not my fault,” Clint said with a wince and Maria shook her head. 

“Is Stark waiting outside?” she asked and Clint nodded. Maria rose, went to the door, opened it and waved Tony in. But she didn't go back to her desk, she went to one of the shelves, gathered up a bunch of papers and handed it to Clint as soon as Tony was inside of the office. 

“What's that?” he asked carefully and she grinned evilly.

“These are empty and clean forms and since you two soiled the paperwork, you redo it. Right here, in my office, with me supervising you.” 

“What?” Tony blurted but then Maria pointed at the two chairs. 

“Sit. And start writing,” she spat and both men obeyed immediately, grumbling under their breaths. They both didn't see her really, really smug smirk when she sent a photo, she just made with her phone, to Natasha and Steve.


	16. To stake a claim

“Heeey,” Tony grinned when he saw his favorite archer entering his workshop. “Haven't seen you all day long.” Bruce, who stood at a workbench on the other end of the room, waved in his direction and Clint waved back.

Tony shoved his safety glasses upwards and turned around when Clint was close. 

“Yeah,” Clint wrapped his arms around his waist. “Steve is painting his room and he asked me to help him and who am I to turn Captain America down? Especially when he looks at me with his puppy eyes,” he grinned, too, and closed the distance between them. He brushed his lips and Tony couldn't help himself, he pulled him closer and deepened the kiss, licked along his lips and Clint opened his mouth, invited him in. When he felt the archer's hands on his ass, he grinned into the kiss and gently bit his lower lip. 

“They're his most efficient weapon. No one can resist those eyes,” Tony chuckled. 

“But at least I could convince him to give me a tiny break, to see a certain genius and to make sure said genius eats something else than Snickers,” Clint whispered and kneaded Tony's ass through his pants. “And to get more paint,” he added with a grin. 

“I ate something else, Bruce is my witness,” Tony defended himself and pointed with his head at an empty plate. Clint saw a small rest of mashed potatoes with gravy and meat loaf on it. Just a tiny rest. 

“That's my boy,” Clint murmured, leaned in and kissed Tony again, sucked at his tongue and rubbed his body along Tony's. 

“Oh god, please stop or I have to bend you over that workbench and have my way with you right there and then,” Tony moaned.

“Uhm, you know that I'm still here, right?” Bruce yelled over to them and both, Clint and Tony, turned their heads.

“You wanna watch?” Tony asked suddenly.

Bruce squawked “What!?” the same moment Clint called Tony a pervert.

“What, don't say this would be your first time? May I remind you at the incident in San Francisco?” Tony looked at Clint, his head cocked. Clint half nodded, half shrugged and turned back to Bruce.

“You wanna watch?” he asked as well.

“No! I want to get my work done here,” Bruce grumbled and Tony thought it was a pity because Clint, that little shit, had an enormous exhibitionistic streak. 

“Pity,” Clint shrugged and stepped back. “But I guess our dear Cap needs his paint,” he sighed then. 

“You know, you're not off this hook,” Tony smirked and Clint chuckled again. 

“Well, I count on it,” Clint winked before he kissed Tony once again. “Bruce, can you please make sure he drinks something else than coffee?” he said and when Bruce nodded he left the workshop.

“Mother hen,” Tony smiled fondly when he sensed Bruce beside him. And Bruce had a huge grin on his face, too. “What?” He asked and the other man just shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said but the grin didn't vanish. “You two... it's just too cute,” he added then and placed a StarkPad on Tony's workbench. “Do you think you can take a look at this equation?” 

 

 

When he went into the kitchen on the communal floor, his empty mug and almost empty plate in his hand, he found Natasha at the kitchen table, a paper in her hand and solving the crossword puzzle. She had her pen in her mouth and chewed on it. Tony opened the trash can, removed the scraps of his meal and then went to the dishwasher to put his dirty dishes in it. When he turned back he saw the woman looking at him and grinning broadly. 

“What?” he asked and she shook her head. 

“Oh, it's... Do you by chance know a European capital with five letters?” she asked then.

“Paris?” Tony guessed and Natasha looked at her crossword puzzle. 

“Yeah, that's it. Thanks,” she smiled. Tony shook his head when he left. He knew from Clint that they had been there on missions quite a few times. She should know that, right? Odd. 

 

 

Tony went out onto the deck. He had promised Clint to at least take a break every four hours and JARVIS made sure that he kept his promise. When the AI threw him out of his workshop and he had brought his dirty dishes into the kitchen, he grabbed a book about quantum field generators. And with the book in his hand he went out onto the deck. 

Jane and Thor were there, too, lounging on deckchairs and enjoying the sun. 

“Hey,” Tony greeted and went over to them. “Mind if I join you?” 

“No, not at all,” Thor said and Tony nodded.

“Oh, is that the book from Dr. Martins?” Jane asked whens he spotted the book. 

“Yeah,” Tony handed it to her and turned to shove a deckchair under the sun blind. He wanted to read and not to burn. 

“Uhm...” Jane said and stared at him. Or more precisely at his ass. And when he turned to look at her, her eyes snapped up to him and she blushed violently. 

“What?” he asked and furrowed his brows. 

“No-nothing,” she stammered, gave him his book and put her shades on. 

“What's wrong?” he asked Thor now but the Asgardian just grinned brightly at him and Tony shook his head and went to his deckchair. Really odd.

 

 

The whole team acted strange the rest of the day. Everyone seemed to look at him and then they blushed or started to stutter and no one told him what was wrong. And then all the smug grins he got. It was really distracting. Even Director Fury, who had to talk to Natasha, stared at him, grinned evilly and went to the elevator. And when the doors closed, he could hear him laugh. Honest-to-god laugh! Fury! It was a really, really strange behavior. Maybe he should check if they got drugged?

He just turned around the corner to get to the elevator, when he heard steps behind him. 

“Hey, Tony, do you think you can... holy mother of god!” He turned to see Steve staring at the spot where his ass had been only a second before. 

“What? What's wrong?” he spat now and glared angrily at the super-soldier. “Everyone behaves so odd today!” 

“It's... there's something... you know... there,” Steve blushed violently and thanks to his fair complexion he was beet red. And he pointed at Tony's ass. “Look,” he pointed at one of the mirrors beside the elevator and now Tony stood there and looked... and saw two purple hand prints on his ass. 

“That... Clint!” he yelled and the archer strolled out of the kitchen, an apron around his hips and grinned as well. 

“Yes, honey?” he asked innocently. 

“Care to explain this?” he pointed at his ass and Clint raised a brow. “I talk about the hand prints,” he added quickly when he read Clint's expression.

“Just had to stake my claim,” he shrugged and now it was Tony who blushed. 

“But... purple?” 

“Hey, it's the color Steve chose for his bedroom,” Clint pointed at said super-soldier. And Tony turned to him, his head tilted to one side. 

“You painted your bedroom purple?” he asked now.

“Well, Clint said...” he started but Tony shook his head and interrupted him.

“You let _Clint_ chose the color of your bedroom?” Tony asked incredulously.

“Hey, there's nothing wrong with purple and Steve likes it, right? And by the way, it looks good on you, too,” Clint smirked now. 

“Oh, you...” Tony started to chase after Clint, who ran away with a yelp and Steve, who stared after them, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

“JARVIS? Could you please order some food in? I'm pretty sure they won't come back down today,” Steve said.

“No, probably not. Any preferences?” The AI replied.

“Surprise us.”


	17. Cara mia

Tony stared at the costumes as if they would attack him every moment. He hoped they would attack him, so he would have a reason to destroy them. But Clint stood beside him and grinned like a maniac. He really liked them. 

He took a deep breath and turned to the other man. “Seriously?” He asked and Clint nodded and his grin broadened. “That's your idea for a couple costume?” 

“It will be great.” Clint chuckled and Tony frowned at the costumes again. 

“Seriously?” He asked again and this time Clint's grin faltered a tiny bit. 

“I mean, what could probably be better for a Halloween party?” 

“But... when I suggested we wear matching costumes I thought about something cool. Something a little bit more... masculine.” He glared at the costume Clint had chosen for him once more.

“It's Halloween, Tony.” Clint shrugged. “And you can't deny that they are cool.” 

“Okay, I will admit _that_. But why am I the one to wear the dress?” Tony wanted to know and now Clint's grin broadened again. 

“Because you would totally rock the dress. And look at my shoulders, they wouldn't fit in it.” He shrugged.

“But I have to shave my beard and you had to grow one. That's ridiculous.” He almost whined.

“Your beard will grow back and you will look sexy in that dress, believe me.” Clint winked. “And think of all the possibilities.” Tony blushed. After all their time together Clint could still make him blush.

“Why didn't you pick something like... like the Batman and Robin costumes I've showed you?” 

“Because you wouldn't look as sexy as Robin as...” Clint started but Tony interrupted him.

“Wait, what? Why would I be Robin? I mean, I'm the genius inventor billionaire, I should totally be Batman.” 

“Same problem. My shoulders wouldn't fit in the costume,” Clint pointed out. “And by the way, it's Halloween, you're not supposed to masquerade as yourself.” 

“But Clint, it's a _dress_!!” Tony whined now and pointed at the costume again. 

“Come on, please?” Clint tried it with his puppy eyes and Tony felt his resistance melting away. Damn bastard, knew how to get him. 

“Fine! But next time _I_ choose the costumes and you wear whatever I pick without complaining,” he said and Clint raised both hands in a surrendering motion.

“Okay, deal.” He smiled and Tony – still muttering under his breath – grabbed the dress and the wig and went to the bathroom to change. Clint, still grinning, shrugged off his shirt and started to get dressed as well.

 

 

“Why do they always have to be late?” Steve grumbled and glared at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. Natasha – Morgan le Fay - looked at him, at his hand, furrowed her brows and he removed the watch and gave it to her. She placed it her purse and nodded then. King Arthur never wore a wristwatch and so would Steve not wear one. Sam – Lancelot – chuckled slightly. 

The others were mixed with the other guests but Clint and Tony, the hosts, weren't here. 

“I mean, it's their party. Why can't they... holy mother of god!” Steve blurted when he saw the two men arrive. Natasha turned her head as well and saw... Tony in a long, black dress with a long-haired, black wig without his beard but wearing a perfect make-up, hooked in with Clint, wearing a suit. He had a mustache and a cigar in his hand. 

“Seriously?” Natasha asked when they were close enough and Clint nodded enthusiastically and grinned while Tony rolled his eyes. 

“Cara mia,” Clint announced grandiloquently, gesturing with his free arm, “pay no heed to these heathens.” 

This time both, Natasha and Tony rolled their eyes. 

“Okay, uhm...” Steve looked at Clint, then at Tony, then back at Clint, gesturing with his finger. “And you two are?” 

“Ah, right.” Clint grinned, bowed and _introduced_ himself and Tony. “Morticia and Gomez Addams.” 

“We haven't seen the movie yet,” Sam whispered in Steve's ear when they all saw the confused glances. But now Clint turned away to Tony and smirked.

“How long has it been since we've waltzed?” Clint said and took Tony's hand. 

“Oh, Gomez... hours,” Tony replied, his voice disguised. 

“You're not going to quote the movie all night long, right?” Natasha asked and Tony winked. 

“And our credo: "Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc." We gladly feast on those who would subdue us. Not just pretty words.”

“Oh god, they're doing it,” Natasha muttered, grabbed Sam's arm and dragged him onto the dancing floor. Clint laughed, took Tony's arm and they followed them. Only Steve stayed back and shook his head, muttering about strange modern habits and went to the bar. 

Later that evening, he was just leaning against a pillar and watching the guests dance, laugh and drink, he heard Clint and Tony again. 

“Gomez.” 

“Querida?” 

“Last night you were unhinged. You were like some desperate, howling demon. You frightened me. Do it again!” 

He looked over his shoulder and saw the two disappear into the elevator and the way Tony's wig landed on the floor told him what they did right now. And he sighed. He would take the stairs to his apartment.


	18. Too hot for coffee

It was hot outside. Tony looked at the thermometer one of the buildings had outside on their wall. 105 degrees. Fucking hot. And they had had to fight against invading aliens. Again. 

But they had won and now they sat around at the ground amid the rubble and debris and dead aliens. And it was hot. Did anyone mention that it was hot? 

“I'm melting,” Clint complained while they waited for SHIELD. Their quinjet was crashed and they needed to be fetched. 

“Well, technically humans melt at about 480 degrees.” Bruce shrugged and Clint glared at him. 

“I have sweat in my ass crack,” the archer stated and Bruce blushed violently. Tony on the other hand started to cackle. 

“We need something to drink,” he said then and looked around, started to smile broadly and pointed at a building at the far end of the street where they waited. “And I can see a cafe over there.” 

“Yes!” Clint jumped up and grabbed his bow case. “Coffee! The magic word.” he grinned.

“Coffee?” Steve looked at him disbelievingly. “It's too hot for coffee.” 

Both, Clint and Tony, stopped dead in their tracks and turned to him, looked at him with the same confused glances on their faces. And then Tony turned to Clint and moved his hands in a questioning gesture. 

“What did he say?” Tony asked and Clint shrugged. 

“I... I'm not sure. I heard words coming out of his mouth, but...” he stopped.

“Yeah, I know. They don't make sense.” Tony stated. 

“Is it even possible to use these words in this combination?” Clint asked and looked around at the other Avengers. Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose, Thor followed their conversation with a grin and Bruce raised both hands defensively and stepped back a bit. 

“I don't know. It's... I'm not sure.” Clint looked at Steve. “Did you just say it's too hot for coffee?” 

Steve rolled his eyes. “It's more than 100 degrees, Tony. It's way too hot for coffee.” 

“I... I'm confused, Tony. He put another word in this strange combination and... it still doesn't make sense,” Clint said and shrugged again. 

“Steven, it's never... never too hot for coffee,” Tony said very, very slowly as if he would talk to someone mentally retarted. 

“It's burning hot. The soles of my shoes stick to the ground,” Steve replied and sounded slightly annoyed now. 

“Steven, it's never too hot for coffee,” Tony repeated, looked at Clint who nodded vehemently. 

“You can't trust people who think it's too hot for coffee,” the archer added then and now Tony nodded. 

“Guys,” Natasha cut in. “You two, go, get your coffee. And Steve, don't try to argue with the two most caffeine addicted guys on earth.” 

When Steve opened his mouth Natasha raised her finger and he shut it again. 

“And bring me a cappuccino,” she added then and looked at Clint. 

“Uhm, could you maybe bring some café au lait?” Bruce asked and when Clint looked at Thor, the Asgardian threw a smirk in Steve's direction, shrugged apologetically and added, “Just some plain coffee, please.” 

“God, how can you drink that stuff when even the walls are melting?” Steve huffed.

“Do you know why people in hot areas drink hot beverages?” Bruce asked and Steve glared at him now, sat down in a small shadowy space and pursed his lips. He glared even more when Clint and Tony were back and all of the Avengers drank their hot coffee. And he transpired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't help myself because it's too f***n hot here :D


	19. The cat-sitter

Pepper was used to have to fly around the world all the time and it never was a problem. But a month ago she had gotten herself a cat, a beautiful, white Traditional Persian, not one with those mashed faces. Her name was Gwendolyn and her bloodline was as long as her, Pepper's, leg. 

But now she _had_ a problem because she and Tony had to fly to a business meeting in Toronto, Canada. And no one to take care of Gwendolyn. 

“Why don't you ask Clint?” Tony said after the last meeting with the board members. 

“What?” she asked and stopped putting her papers in her attaché. 

“Clint, ask him. He loves animals. He brings home strays every other day and he would keep all of them. It was hard work to negotiate him down to that one, half-blind dog. I guess he wouldn't mind to have a cat for a few days.” 

“Are you serious? I mean, Gwendolyn has long hair and she sheds a bit,” Pepper explained but Tony only raised a brow. 

“Lucky sheds, too. That's why I have built in the best cleaning system ever,” he grinned.

“You created a few new bots?” Pepper asked and Tony winked.

“Of course. Or do you know anyone else who could probably build the best cleaning system ever?” He shrugged with a smirk on his lips and finally Pepper nodded.

“Okay,” she said and started to pack up her papers again. “I'll ask him.” 

“He loves animals, he will take good care of your... cat,” Tony said with a tiny break. Apparently he had already forgotten her name.

“Gwendolyn. And yeah, you're right. Maybe it's a good idea.” 

It was not.

***

They had to stay for a week to coordinate all the new projects in their factories, to sit through all the meetings with the higher ups and they had to have a lot of negotiations with new business partners. It was a long week and Pepper was tired when they flew back. At least Iron Man wasn't needed and Tony could stay and do a lot of the work himself.

Together with Tony she left the elevator and stepped into the penthouse where she saw Lucky sleeping on one of the couches. But her Gwendolyn wasn't here. And Clint was missing, too. Usually, when Tony came back after a few days away, Clint tackled him into the nearest wall and kissed the living daylights out of him. But this time he was remarkable absent. 

“JARVIS? Where's Clint?” Tony asked immediately and Pepper looked around and still saw no trace of her cat. 

“He's in the master bathroom, sir,” the AI said.

“And where's my cat?” Pepper added. JARVIS was quiet for a long moment. 

“The... cat... is with him,” he said then and both, Pepper and Tony, looked at each other. 

“JARVIS? What's wrong?” Pepper asked, really worried right now. 

“I think it's better Agent Barton explains the situation himself,” the AI was really cagey.

Tony nodded in Pepper's direction and both hurried to the bedroom, crossed it and Tony opened the door to the en suite. And stopped dead in his tracks. 

“Oh my god,” he blurted when his eyes trailed from Clint to the _cat_ , sitting on the counter beside him and looking really miserable. And strange. 

“Gwendolyn!” Pepper yelled when she saw the cat, too. “What have you done to my cat?” 

“Oh, hey, Pepper,” Clint grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. Pepper saw claw marks along his arms and a bloody towel at the floor. But the cat was, well, shaved. The long, soft fur was cut down to a few millimeters and only around the head and the tail tip it was as long as it used to be. Gwendolyn glared murderously at the archer but the whole threatening appearance was reduced to absurdity because the cat looked like a comic figure with its big head on its small body. And the head looked like a football with the strange haircut. 

“What have you done to my cat? She looks like a cartoon!” She turned around and stabbed her finger into his chest. 

“Well, she... she's a cat. She's supposed to be self-cleaning. No one told me that I have to brush her,” he said, both hands raised defensively. 

“What do you think the brush was for?” Pepper asked incredulously and stared at the almost hairless, ridiculous looking animal, still glaring at all of them. 

“I don't know. But in my defense, she _did_ clean herself. Unfortunately, it didn't go too well. The fur became felted and I... well... I had to cut it down,” he said and pointed at the scissors beside the cat on the counter, amidst long strands of fur and blood stains. Gwendolyn didn't give up without a fight. At least. 

“My poor, poor baby,” she finally leaned down to crawl the strange looking head of her cat. “Come on, Gwendolyn,” she said and took her onto her arm. 

“Uhm... she doesn't like that name,” Clint added when she was halfway out of the bathroom. 

“What?” she asked and turned back to the archer who stood beside Tony now. 

“She... she doesn't like that name. She liked Gatinha,” he shrugged. 

“You called my cat Gatinha?” Pepper snapped. 

“Well, she liked it. And... and it means pretty girl,” Clint shrugged again. 

“Is that Spanish?” 

“No, it's... it's Portuguese. And she liked it,” he said. Pepper huffed in frustration, grabbed her cat and left the penthouse. It was a bad idea. She had given Clint a beautiful long-haired cat with a beautiful name and now she had strange animal with a football-shaped head and a ridiculous name. 

“Gatinha?” she tried it and the cat meowed immediately. Pepper huffed again. Great! She would never let that archer near her cat again. 

Three weeks later Pepper asked Clint to cat-sit Gatinha again. She had to fly to Italy. The cat was happy to see him. And Tony grinned really, really smug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/post/127550953532/cutenessclub-cat-got-shaven-and-now-it-looks) picture.


	20. Karaoke night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint can't sing in front of an audience... but he can sing for Tony

Tony had bought a karaoke machine. Every other man would've rented one or would use a game console. But no, Tony Stark bought a karaoke machine. He was excited like a school boy when he set it up. Clint watched him from his perch on the back of the couch but he didn't try to help him. Tony was sure that it would go faster with his help but he didn't want to bug him. He eyed the machine suspiciously since the delivery guys brought it up to the living room. 

“Why did you _buy_ a karaoke machine?” He asked after a very long moment and slid off of the back of the couch. 

“Because Steve and Thor said they want to try it and I don't want them to have to go to a bar where everyone can see them. And because it's fun,” Tony grinned. 

“You never said that you tried it,” Clint mumbled and reached carefully for the microphone. 

“Two years ago me and Pepper had to travel to Tokyo and our business partners invited us,” Tony shrugged. 

“Your business partners _invited_ you to a karaoke bar?” Clint cocked his head. Tony laughed when he saw his expression. 

“It was a very exclusive karaoke bar and no, there are no videos on youtube,” he said then. 

“But... why do _I_ have to participate?” Clint shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and hunched his shoulders. Tony put the wire he just had in his hand away and sighed. 

“Because our fearless leader thinks it's a great idea for a team-building exercise,” he said. 

“But...” Clint started again but this time Tony shut him up with a kiss and he felt him melt into the caresses. 

“You don't have to sing if you don't want to,” he murmured when they parted and Clint finally nodded. 

“Okay,” he said, looked at the tangled wires and hunkered down to help Tony to untangle them.

***

It was horrible. Tony really regretted to have bought the damn karaoke machine. Really. He himself had started with Sting's 'Every breath you take' and he didn't need to look at the lyrics, he knew the song by heart. And he didn't avert his eyes from Clint who blushed violently. But as far as he could assess all of their performances, so far he was the only one who could actually sing.

Bruce sang some Indian Bollywood song and he was so quiet, they could only hear the music and see him move his lips. 

Natasha refused to sing. 

Steve's voice wasn't that bad and the song – some old stuff from the 30es – was actually nice, but the problem was, he was too slow. He was always off beat and way, way too slow. He needed almost a whole minute to finish his text when the music has already stopped. And then he blushed and hid behind a cushion. Natasha patted his shoulder and told him it wasn't too bad. Steve didn't believe her. 

Thor sang Metallica's 'Whiskey in the jar' and he was... well... okay. He never, not even by accident, hit the right note but at least he had fun and he was a great performer. 

And then all of them stared at Clint. But when he said he didn't want to sing, too, Steve said that – aside from Natasha – all of them had made a fool of themselves and he shouldn't be a spoilsport. Clint finally gave in. He went to the machine to pick a song and he needed a long time to find the right one. But just when Tony wanted to give in and save him he nodded, grabbed the microphone and the music started. 

“Wise men say, only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you...” he started together with reggae music. Tony's brows hit his hairline. Reggae?? “Shall I stay, would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you...” He and Clint were together for some time now but he had never heard him sing. But it was a shame. His voice was beautiful and Tony couldn't avert his eyes from Clint's lips. “Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things are meant to be...” And Clint only looked at Tony. “Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can't help falling in love with you...”

When the song ended the other Avengers clapped their hands but Tony couldn't stop, he had to go to him, grab his face and kiss him as hard as possible. 

“Why didn't you tell us that you're such a good singer?” Steve asked when Tony let go of Clint and the archer blushed violently. 

“I... usually don't sing,” he admitted and flushed even more. 

“You should keep that in mind for a second career if you want to stop avenging,” Bruce said. “You're really good.” 

“I... I can't sing in front of a crowd. And here...” Clint said and looked at Tony again. “I..” he gestured vaguely in Tony's direction “... you know...” he was so red in his face right now. 

“You performed in the circus three times a day in front of a crowd,” Steve blurted, his eyes wide. 

“Yes, but I never had to talk or to sing in front of them.” 

“Oh my god!” Natasha suddenly grinned. “You've stage fright!” She teased.

“What? No! No, that's... that's ridiculous. I... I just...” 

“Oh, yes. The famous circus performer Hawkeye has stage fright,” she said and her grin broadened when Clint blushed even more. 

“Yeah? So, why do you not show us your talent?” Tony butted in and Natasha's grin disappeared. Clint looked at Tony, Tony looked at Clint, they fistbumped when she blushed, too. And Thor chuckled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tony's song: [RDJ + Sting 'Every breath you take'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CCMUiKzblcE)  
> Clint's song: [UB40 'Can't help falling in love'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ajp0Uaw4rqo)


	21. The yellow bird

“Nope,” Phil said, turned around and walked away. His team had called the Avengers to help them and then, after the battle, when he came over to them for a first debriefing, he took a look at Clint, said 'no' and walked away. Tony, who stood beside the archer, couldn't help himself, he had to laugh. 

On his way to his team he saw Maria Hill, he waved her over and pointed over his shoulder. “You deal with them,” he said. 

“What's wrong?” Maria asked but when she looked and finally saw the reason, she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. But before Phil could disappear, she grabbed his arm and dragged him back. 

“Barton!” The archer turned to look at her and Phil saw Captain Rogers shift nervously from one foot to the other. “Care to explain your... attire?” 

Clint looked down at himself, then up to her and shook his head. “What's wrong with my attire?” He asked. 

“What's wrong with... you're wearing a yellow bird costume, Barton. That's wrong with it!” Tony had slapped a hand over his mouth to stop the violent giggling while Phil felt the beginning of a headache and he closed his eyes for a few seconds. 

“Oh, that!” Clint looked up and grinned. 

“Ma'am, we...” Steve started but Maria raised her hand and stopped him. 

“Yes, Barton. That! Since when is a yellow bird costume the uniform you wear in a battle?” Maria was close to yell at the archer and Tony had to turn around but he couldn't hold back his laughter anymore. 

“I can explain it,” Clint said. Maria folded her arms over her chest and tapped her fingers on her arm. Phil saw a vein throb at her temple. 

“I'm listening,” she pressed through her teeth. Tony tried to sneak away quietly. 

“It may have been a bet,” Clint said, turned to grab Tony's back and dragged him back. 

“A bet?” Phil asked incredulously. 

“Alcohol may have been involved when the bet happened,” Clint added vaguely. 

“You...” 

“May I add, this here,” Clint said and gestured around at the _battlefield_ , “wasn't planned.” 

“So, what _was_ planned then?” Maria snarled and glared angrily at Tony now. 

“Well, I was supposed to train with the new recruits at base and...” Clint started.

“... and then we got called in and...” Tony continued. 

“... and there was no time to change...” Clint interrupted.

“... and so he had to go like this.” Both looked at Maria, looking pleased with themselves now. Maria blinked. Once, twice, shook her head, turned around and walked away.

“Nope,” she said and looked at Coulson. “You deal with them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this [picture](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/post/138083882197/dammit-clint-dammit-clint-there-may-have)

**Author's Note:**

> [asamandra on tumblr](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/)


End file.
